Page 119 of Melting the Ice

Brand him with this moment, until he couldn’t even look at Brody without remembering how good it had been.

Dean muttered, and Brody heard something crack, and he shifted downward, suddenly. That was all it took, because hisface and his cock pushed firmly against the comforter that smelled just like Dean and he shuddered his orgasm, wailing with every additional thrust Dean gave, and then Dean’s hips were stuttering too, and it was over.

It was over, Brody realized blurrily as he collapsed onto the bed, but nothing would ever be the same again.

Dean’s hand was reverent on his back as he stroked him.

After finding this, how was he supposed to live without it now?

“I think we might’ve broken the bed,” Dean said, carefully sliding out of him. He settled next to Brody, neither of them apparently giving a shit about the wet spot this time.

“Oh?” Brody chuckled, gasping as the last little bit of pleasure escaped him. He realized then that they were lying together, but tilted.

“It was worth it,” Dean said. He was touching Brody everywhere, again, hands coasting across his skin like he needed to know for sure that he was okay. That he was still in one piece.

Well, Brody had to tell him his head had just blown clean off, and that was entirelyhisfault.

Maybebothof their faults, if Brody was being generous.

“Yeah,” Brody said, and then he started to laugh and couldn’t stop.

Dean joined him. “We definitely did that.”

“Next year, we’re gonna have to get a metal bed frame,” Brody said. “Especially if I ride you the way I want to.”

Dean’s hand froze on his back. Didn’t move. Brody steeled himself and rolled over so he could see his face.

He hadn’t reallymeantto say it, hadn’t meant to assume that they’d be doing this next year, that they’d be sharing both an apartmentanda bed next year.

But he knew he’d want to.

Emotion flickered in Dean’s eyes. “You want that?”

“The riding? Hell yes. Have you seen that porn where—”

Dean chuckled again and shook his head, kissing Brody to shut him up. Then he pulled back. “You’d want to be with me next year?”

“I don’t know about the year after that”—though he was beginning to have an idea—“but yeah, I do.”As much time as you’ll give me.Might not be enough, but it would be better than nothing.

Dean smiled. “Guess we’re pretty shitty at friends with benefits.”

Something tangled unwound in Brody’s chest, but before he could say anything, Dean kept going. “Not sure how this looks. Or works. Or anything. But I don’t want to give it up, either.”

It wasn’t a confession of eternal love—and,that voice added in Brody’s mind, you’re not ready to make those either,by the way—but it was enough, for now.

It meant that Brody could stop worrying that the next time this happened would be the last time.

That they meant something to each other, whatever that something was.

It’s love,you two fucking morons, that Ramsey voice added.

But Brody shook his head to clear it. “I’m not giving it up. Giving you up,” he said.

A long moment of quiet silence later, Dean said, “I gotta get up. Clean up. Figure out how fucked the bed is.”

“Does it matter?” Brody paused. “We can just share mine.”

Dean gazed at him. “You’d want that?”

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